#tragic found family

[teanao]

Another Place, Another Time

※Please do not edit or reupload without sourcing back to me※

[atomikats]

sometimes i remember law has a father

[aniimoni]

trips and falls down the stairs

uhhhhh something something Narinder can’t come to terms with the fact that they see him as a father figure and he misses them idk so take this half assed comic

[spkyart]

THE BOYS ⭐⭐⭐⭐

One of them is a professional yapper

[hajihiko]

[aventurineswife]

Stages of Shadows:

Chapter 3 - Shattered Reflection

Sunday’s eyes were locked onto the massive screen in the waiting room, his heart pounding in an unsettling rhythm as he watched Robin and [Name] onstage, their voices intertwining in a hauntingly beautiful duet. For a moment, he allowed himself to believe that this performance, this brutal contest, was only a temporary trial-that Robin would be safe, that this would all be over soon, and they would find a way to escape together. He clung to this fragile hope, barely breathing, as he watched her every movement, her every glance.

But then, he saw it. The sudden red splatter on [Name]’s face, the way Robin’s form fell, the crimson pooling around her like some twisted blossom. Sunday’s breath caught, and his chest tightened as if someone had plunged a knife between his ribs.

“No…” The word barely escaped his lips, a fractured whisper. He staggered back, unable to tear his eyes from the screen, from the image of his sister lying there, her soft smile frozen in time. She was gone, taken from him in an instant, her final moments stripped of dignity, her warmth extinguished before his very eyes.

In that moment, something inside him shattered.

Sunday stumbled, his vision blurring as grief and fury twisted inside him, coiling like a snake around his heart. His carefully constructed composure, the dignified mask he wore for the world, cracked and fell away. He tried to breathe, but each inhale only made the void within him deepen, as if he were sinking into an endless abyss.

He sank to his knees, his hands trembling as he clutched at his chest, his heart pounding in frantic, uneven beats. The weight of everything-his guilt, his helplessness, his deep-seated conviction that he had failed her—pressed down on him until he could barely breathe.

This isn’t real. It can’t be real.

But it was. She was gone, and he hadn’t been there to protect her.

All his ideals, his belief that he could create a world free from pain, felt like a cruel joke. He had clung to the notion of Sweetdream Paradise—a place where no one had to suffer, where people could find solace without facing the horrors of reality. And yet, here he was, drowning in the very pain he had spent his life trying to escape, with no dream to shield him.

Sunday’s hands curled into fists, nails biting into his palms as anger ignited within him, dark and consuming. And it wasn’t just the competition he despised; it was [Name].

His body trembled with fury, his eyes narrowed in hatred. He knew it—[Name] was not to be trusted. He would never forgive them for failing her, for shattering his fragile hope.

The door to the waiting room creaked open, but Sunday didn’t look up. Footsteps approached, cautious and hesitant, but he couldn’t bring himself to care who it was. The world had collapsed around him, and all that remained was his rage and his grief, tangled in a brutal, inescapable storm.

It was [Name]. They tried to call out his name, “Sunday… I-” but before they could even finish, he had them pushed against the wall, his grip firm around their neck. In his eyes, they saw the hurt, the hatred, and, especially…

betrayal.

Sunday’s eyes bore into [Name]’s with an intensity that felt scorching, as if his gaze alone could reduce them to ashes. His fingers tightened around their throat, his usual calm and composed demeanour twisted into something unrecognizable. Beneath the grief, beneath the pain, there was a raw, seething rage that trembled just beneath the surface, threatening to consume them both.

“How could you?” His voice was low, dangerously steady, each word laced with venom. “You were supposed to keep her safe!” His grip tightened, his breaths coming shallow and fast. “But now she’s gone—gone because of you.”

[Name]’s hands instinctively went to his wrist, but they could feel his fingers pressing harder with every second, his rage manifesting in every fiber of his being. They struggled to form a response, but the words caught in their throat, trapped beneath the weight of his fury.

“She trusted you,” Sunday spat, his tone barely a whisper but heavy with the devastation of his broken trust. “Robin believed in you. And you let her down. You let me down.” His voice wavered, and for a brief second, the mask of anger slipped, revealing a flash of raw pain, an agony that cut deeper than any blade.

In that moment, he didn’t look like the dignified leader he was known to be. Instead, he was a grieving brother, a broken man who had lost the last piece of his family. His hand shook as he maintained his hold on them, torn between the urge to lash out and the crushing sorrow that threatened to drown him.

“Why…?” The question hung in the air, heavy and accusing, as if he were demanding an answer not only for Robin’s death but for every shattered piece of his world.

[Name] could only stare back at him, their own eyes clouded with remorse, guilt, and a silent apology. They opened their mouth to respond, to explain, to plead for understanding—but no words came. Only silence, as thick and oppressive as the grief that hung between them, as Sunday continued to wrestle with the pain of his sister’s loss and the hollow betrayal that now burned where his trust once lay.

Sunday’s head fell onto [Name]’s shoulder, the weight of his sorrow pressed heavily against them. Tears streamed down his cheeks, each sob a release of the pent-up pain and fear he had held at bay for so long. His grip on [Name]’s neck loosened, as if the emotional turmoil had drained him of all strength. The realization that his only family, the sister he believed lost forever, had returned to him only to be taken away in such a brutal manner felt like a dagger to his heart.

“Why? Why does this keep happening?” he choked out between sobs, his voice thick with anguish. Memories of laughter, shared secrets, and dreams of a better life flooded his mind, mingling with the harsh reality of the moment. He felt the world closing in, suffocating him with grief.

Trying to offer comfort, [Name] reached out, their hand hovering hesitantly over his back, attempting to reassure him. “Sunday, I—”

But before they could finish, Sunday suddenly lashed out, slapping their hand away with a surprising force. “Don’t!” he shouted, his voice breaking with both fury and despair. “You don’t understand! You’re just like them!” His eyes, usually so calm and composed, were now wild and unrecognizable, reflecting the chaos within.

[Name] recoiled slightly, their heart racing as they tried to process his outburst. They had seen Sunday as a pillar of strength, but now he was crumbling, lost in a sea of emotions. “I’m trying to help you…!” they pleaded, desperation edging their voice.

“You don’t know what I’ve lost, what I have to protect! This… this competition, it’s a nightmare! And you’re part of it!” he screamed, pulling away and standing abruptly, his face a mask of rage and sorrow.

In that moment, the distance between them felt insurmountable. Sunday’s pain was palpable, a chasm that seemed to widen with each breath he took. He was torn between the instinct to shut everyone out and the desperate need for connection—yet all he could feel was the suffocating weight of loss.

As Sunday turned away, his heart ached for Robin. The turmoil within him raged like a storm, leaving only a fractured sense of self and a lingering question: could he truly protect those he loved in a world so cruel?

As Sunday stormed out of the waiting room, seeking solace in the fresh air, the tension in the space lingered like a heavy fog. Unbeknownst to him and [Name], a pair of keen eyes observed from just behind the door. Aventurine, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity, had been silently watching the emotional exchange unfold. He had listened to every word, each one resonating deeply within him. He felt a pull to intervene, to protect [Name] in their time of despair, but something held him back—a sense of hesitation, perhaps, or an understanding.

“Hey,” Aventurine said softly, breaking the silence as he stepped inside. His lilting voice carried a gentle tone, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had just unfolded. “Are you okay?”

[Name] looked up, startled at his sudden presence. They took a moment to collect themselves, wiping their eyes and trying to steady their breathing. “I… I don’t know. I just… I thought I could’ve helped him, but now…” Their voice trailed off, the pain of witnessing Sunday’s breakdown still fresh.

Aventurine took a step closer, his eyes narrowing with concern. “You saw how much he cares for Robin. That kind of love can be overwhelming, especially in a place like this.” He paused, glancing back towards the door where Sunday had exited. “He’s been carrying that weight for so long—it’s more than anyone should have to bear.”

[Name] nodded slowly, feeling the truth of Aventurine’s words. “I just wanted to be there for him, but I think I made it worse. He… he pushed me away.”

“Sometimes, people push away those they need the most,” Aventurine replied, his tone contemplative. “It’s easier to shut others out than to face the fear of losing them. Sunday’s fighting his own demons, and he might not know how to accept help right now.”

Aventurine’s gaze softened as he studied [Name]. “You have to understand, this isn’t just about the competition for him. It’s about family, loss, and the crushing reality of a world that doesn’t care. You can’t take his rejection personally.”

As Aventurine decided to leave, to give [Name] the space they need, the lingering silence in the room hung heavily in the air. But before he could take another step, [Name] called out to him, their voice steady despite the emotions swirling within. “Wait… thank you.” they said, their eyes searching his.

Aventurine paused, turning back to face [Name]. The sincerity in their voice warmed his heart, igniting a flicker of hope amidst the darkness that surrounded them. “You don’t have to thank me. I just—”

But before he could finish, [Name] stepped closer, wrapping their arms around him in a sudden embrace. The warmth of their body against his sent a rush of emotions flooding through him, a mix of comfort and something deeper—a yearning he had tried to suppress. He hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the unexpected closeness, but then instinctively wrapped his arms around [Name], holding them gently yet protectively.

In that instant, time seemed to stand still for Aventurine. The world outside faded away, and all that mattered was the two of them, entwined in a moment of solace amidst chaos. As he gazed at [Name]’s figure nestled against him, the soft rhythm of their heartbeat synchronized with his own, one thought repeated insistently in his mind, a mantra echoing in the recesses of his heart:

“My God, My Universe.”

It was a realization that transcended mere infatuation; in that embrace, Aventurine felt a connection that defied the odds—a sense that [Name] was not just a companion in this brutal competition but a guiding force in his life. The idea that Gaiathra Triclops or alias Mother Fenge, the deity he revered, manifested in the form of [Name] felt almost plausible. They represented everything he admired: strength, kindness...

Aventurine tightened his grip slightly, reluctant to let go of this moment, knowing that it was fleeting yet profound. “You don’t have to face this alone,” he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if confessing a secret. “We can get through this together.”

The warmth of the embrace lingered, a fragile thread of hope weaving between them, binding their fates together as they navigated the treacherous landscape of the Stages of Shadows.

[Navigation]

[evocatiio]

All I ever wanted to be was a knight, to serve. So far, I hate it.

[brethilach]

gollum is a little freak but I genuinely get so upset thinking about him because we know that was still a lil freaky even before he and deagól found the ring but he very well would've had the opportunity to have a good live and BE good if they hadn't. and no matter what happened afterward, he couldn't go back home. even if he confessed to his crime he very likely would've still been kicked out of his community, or at the very least socially shunned to the point where he might as well just leave anyway. the ring would've consumed him no matter what, and for no fault of his own (or at the least, no faults that would ever warrant some cosmic punishment amounting to what the ring Did to him). by the time Bilbo found him he was far, FAR past the normal lifespan of a Hobbit. After the Ring was destroyed Bilbo began deteriorating at 130, and he had only beaten the current record for the longest Hobbit lifespan by a single year. Gollum was at LEAST 3x older than that. Very likely more. No matter what happened—even if Sam was a little kinder, Faramir was a little gentler, or Frodo was able to fully reach "Smeagól" in the way he so desperately wanted to, even if he helped destroy the Ring himself, or he didn't fall into the fire—Gollum would've died with the Ring. Even if the Quest FAILED and Gollum successfully claimed the Ring like he wanted, he STILL would've died (because Sauron would have never let him hold on to that thing for hundreds of years again, if his body could've even handled that). There is no reality where Smeagól would have a happy ending, whether he was "redeemed" or not. Yet all of it was such a fundemental factor in the success of the Quest (and even Bilbo's success during the Quest of Erebor). Definition of Doomed by the narrative

[falling-star-cygnus]

Here's something I noticed

His tone of voice and his expression in this cutscene kinda feels like his sympathizing with the Ethereal

he's imitating one of those battle 'it's not you, it's me' comic book scenes :D or more likely, a monologue in Starlight Knights

i do feel like, somewhere, he does genuinely feel a little bad for the things- but Billy's also genuinely doesn't give a fuck about anybody outside his circle -> Billy's a sweetheart, we know this, buuut i feel like we all forget he was entirely willing to turn Phaethon into Pubsec FIRST CHANCE he got

it's difficult to explain the dichotomy of his character, because he's not rude like most characters of the archetype are. He's willing to sell people out for the Hares, sure, zero qualms about that-

but he's sweet. Like the type to walk next to the road when he's out with someone and catch you when you trip -> and then shoot you if Nicole asked him to

it's really easy to forget he was built as a point and click war machine

[destinywillowleaf]

one of a kind living in a world gone plastic

baby you're so classic

@most-tragic-character-tournament

(all my thoughts in the tags)

[sparrowmoth]

Thinking about Jesper and Nina as the last of the Crows. Thinking about Wylan, when he dies, and Inej and Kaz have gone already, and Jesper can't contain his grief. He throws himself at Nina, because she has power over the dead, doesn't she? That isn't how it works. But he isn't listening. He begs and pleads for her to bring Wylan back, to try at least—but she won't. She won't, no matter if he hates her for it, because all she can think of is the sight of Matthias and how wrong it was. How wrong to have tried to hold him back, to hold him to her.

She holds Jesper through the night as he sobs into her shoulder. She holds him tight even as he curses her. The both of them know he doesn't really mean it. They only have each other now...

But it isn't only them there.

Someone else is in the room, unseen, and he whispers into Nina's ear. Not her ear, exactly. More so her mind, but he sounds so present if she just closes her eyes. She wishes she could share this through more than translation, so Jesper would be sure... he's okay, he's okay.

He's somewhere else, but he's okay. And he loves you so much, Jes.

Her eyes are full of tears. She keeps them closed as not to let them fall. She whispers Wylan's words to Jesper. She feels him stilling in her arms and keeps on whispering until the words stop and she can't sense him anymore. He had to go, but he'll be waiting. He had to go, but you have time left. Don't rush to him. You'll have forever. It's just for now, so just be patient... you'll have forever. He'll be there waiting.

[winterkittenreads]

Review: Dead Boy Detectives [Season 1]

Audience: 16+

Stars: 4.7/5

dear radish,

I LOVED this show. I felt so alive at the end of it. Go watch it!!!

Things I loved:

Found family

Tied to the Sandman universe but tells its own story in such a wonderful, engaging way

The way our titular dead boy detectives Edwin and Charles have been through the meat grinder, but still want to help others. The way they keep each other afloat omg. Precious.

A LOVE TRIANGLE THAT I ACTUALLY DON'T HATE OMG. I know who I'm rooting for though ;)

The way it doesn't shy away from depicting violence. Because the world IS brutal, even as there's pieces of light in it.

Crystal finding strength through the past women of her family. Loss of memories as a metaphor for how the slave trade stripped Black Americans of their history and identity (maybe). And the empowerment that comes with reconnecting with one's roots/lineage.

Pacing. Look, I admit it. I'm someone who often watches shows at 2x speed. Well buddy, this show moved so fast that I felt no such compulsion to speed it forward. Possibly because the show's creators needed to fit so much within just 8 episodes. But they pulled it off!

Niko's room is full of manga and anime posters, and I loved that for her.

Spoilers:

I HOPE NIKO COMES BACK IN SEASON 2 ARGHHHHHH.

WAS THE GUY IN THE FISH DESTRUCTION???

Night Nurse redemption arc I'm readyyyyyyy

CHARLES IS A BI-KING CHANGE MY MIND

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Imagine you're Mr. Wu and your weird gay daughter runs away in tears after destroying some unespecified object while yelling about you ruining her life. Because you told her you'd be moving to another state. This is the last time you see your daughter in half a year, and when she comes back, she comes back... wrong. She's wearing a light leather armor, a fur-lined cape, and a green flower crown. She has two long scars, one alongside her spine and the other along her chest, the tissue around them covered in burn scars. Doctors say she shouldn't have survived. Doctors say she didn't. Yet she's right here, in front of you, hospital gown clinging to her small, fragile, trembling frame. She fidgets with her hands. Getting her to stay still has always been difficult, but now it seems impossible. She won't let go of her phone. She's always texting her two friends. When you take it away, she gets anxious. You always knew those damn phones cause kids to act weird, but your kid having a panic attack seems too extreme, even for her. Then again, she's always been odd. Nowadays, she wakes up crying and screaming almost every night, and you realize she's been stealing her phone from your bedside drawer every night to text her friends, returning it before you wake up. You catch her once and decide to give her that damn phone back. It's the only thing that calms her down, as if she were a baby with a pacifier. She spends her last weeks in LA clinging to her friends, having sleepovers and playing her weird board games with them. Everytime they drop her back at her house, there's an excessive amount of hugs and tears. But the moments when they call her, or when she leaves to meet with them, or when they show up at their door to pick her up... those are the only moments in which you see her happy. One of her friends, the rude and disobedient one, came back with a big scar on her face. She's been acting a lot nicer, though. The other one too. She acts a great deal more adult now. You doesn't know what happened or where your daughter went. She won't tell you. But you can tell this friendship is the only thing keeping her afloat right now. Maybe you know, deep down, that no one else would understand.

And then you decide to move anyway because fuck her amirite

[psychicdisaster]

Attention all TDLOSK fans.

If you’re looking for something to fill the void inside of you, watch God Troubles Me on Netflix. It’s a comedy donghua with the silliest found family ever. The episodes are very short and it’s very fast paced, but the humour is incredible and so are the characters. Not as much angst potential as TDLOSK, but there’s actually quite a bit there if you pay attention.

In short, it’s amazing. Watch it.

[timey-fandom-stuff]

well, guess who lost control of my hands again and was compelled to scribble down designs for ANOTHER Deltarune AU? yeah. me. it doesn't really have a proper name yet so I've just been calling it Changeling AU for now, I'll figure that out later.

these would be the cast's dark world designs; they parallel early Deltarune concepts in which the lightners would turn into monsters in the dark world-- with a few medieval fantasy fae-flavored twists this time around. mortals become a variety of magical beasts in the fae's dark realm, with only 'Kris' strangely unaffected... aside from the hue shift and conspicuously pointed ears, that is.

the main 'Kris' of this AU isn't the only human in town. instead, they're ironically the only one in town who ISN'T human, though not even they know it yet. in reality they're a Changeling, a fae creature that was left as a 'gift' to replace a taken human child. they can do things, strange things. animals come to them in the night, and the cool touch of iron burns their skin. they're afraid of what they see in the mirror; human eyes don't gleam in the dark, and their teeth shouldn't be so sharp. so they hide their features, and they ignore the whispers of the townsfolk, and they keep their head down.

they made a mistake, a terrible one... and they need to set it right.

meanwhile, the human they replaced is still out there somewhere in the fae world, twisted by its curse into a cornered, desperate beast seeking any escape from the realm that has held them prisoner all their life. it's said that when the full moon casts deep shadows over the woods, you can still hear their anguished howls in the dark begging for the name that once was theirs. they can never leave the dark world without it. they'd do anything to get it back.

all they've ever really wanted was to find their way home.

[perytonfae]

Been thinking about him a lot